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Topic: Things that you just should NOT laugh at. (Read 409229 times)

We went to the Holy Thursday service at our church tonight. Thankfully there was a nursery but as always it only lasts till right after we pass the peace and collection is taken. Youngest pirate was tired, which of course meant he was naughtier than usual and kept slipping out of the pew to run out of the nave.

The second time he did it, he ran right into the glass doors that separate the Nave from the rest of the second floor of the church. He wasn't hurt enough to cry but he did say "Ow!" quietly and then instructed me as to where he needed kisses.

Logged

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here. Be cheerful, strive to be happy. -Desiderata

A friend of mine was pet-sitting for a friend who owned a boa constrictor and was on vacation for three weeks. I think twice a week, Friend was supposed to go to the house and feed the snake. The house was really pretty, the snake cage was the centerpiece of the room it was in and there was a whole sort of Asian feel to the room. And off to the side was the mouse farm that served as the snake's menu.

SnakeOwner didn't get a chance to show Friend whole feeding procedure but explained that you had to give the snake a mouse twice a week and here are the things you should check the snake for and left a whole detailed list of "reasons to call the snake vet" and "stuff that will make the house blow up."

First feeding day, Friend goes to the house and immediately realizes that she hadn't thought this through carefully because this job first involves catching a mouse. Mice know when they're about to be fed to a snake and so, when she reached her hand into the mouse farm, CHOMP, she was bit. Scrounges around and finds some gloves next to the mouse farm, along with a little wooden table and a mallet and a Zen sand thingy and bitty rake and other oddments. Huh. On with the gloves, catches a mouse, tosses it into the snake's cage and that part of the process is done. She waters the plants, sorts the mail, and goes back to her life.

Comes back several days later only to find the snake looking a little peaked and a skinny but sassy mouse zooming around in the snake's cage. Huh? Friend isn't reaching in to the snake's cage to take the mouse out so she tosses a little mouse food into the snake cage, repeats the rest of her routine and leaves. Comes back a couple of days later and the mouse is still hale and healthy but the snake is eyeing her in a way that doesn't seem entirely friendly. Now she's worried. She calls the vet, who says that the snake will eat when it's hungry and asks her other questions that are hard to answer about a snake that you barely know. So Friend does the only sensible thing and calls SnakeOwner to explain the situation.

SnakeOwner can't understand why her snake won't eat. You sure you got a new mouse? And it was alive? You didn't hit it too hard?

Wait. What?

Well, it turns out that the snake doesn't eat dead mice. It also won't eat running around mice. So you have to knock the mouse unconcious before it goes into the snake cage. That's what the little wooden table and mallet are for - you get the mouse out of the farm, cup it on the wooden table and smack it with the hammer hard enough to knock it unconcious but not enough to kill it. Turns out that takes a knack - not everyone can stun a mouse.

Friend still can't actually bring herself to reach into the snake's cage to fish for the living mouse in there, so she tosses some more mouse food in and then fishes out another mouse, WHACKS it on its little mousey head and gives it to the snake who apparently doesn't care so much about the distinction between living and dead after a week of no food because it jumps on little Mousey FooFoo like a reptile avenger.

And Friend suddenly understood why it was that SnakeOwner would hum the Bunny FooFoo song when it was feeding time.

I sent the Gentleman Friend this picture with accompanying text: "I want one."

His response: I am amused at the thought of you cackling maniacally whilst feeding what looks to be a venomous snake live mice.

My older two were serving as acolytes (alter boys) in our Maundy Thursday service the other night and while there was nursery, it only lasts until after the passing of the peace so that the children can participate in communion.

As the service started at 7, by the time communion rolled around, my little pirate was antsy. After communion there is a very quiet time when the priest and lay ministers take off the vestments, leaving just the black gown underneath and turn the lights down. Littlest pirate was even more antsy and decided to slip out the pew and was running out of the church.

Only there are glass doors into the Nave...which were closed. He didn't see them and ran right into it! The fact that he didn't cry made me feel less guilty about it. That and two adults standing by on the other side of the door also saw and tried not to laugh.

He just kind of lightly bounced off them really, shook his head and went "Oh!" before trying again to get through.

Logged

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here. Be cheerful, strive to be happy. -Desiderata

A friend of mine was pet-sitting for a friend who owned a boa constrictor and was on vacation for three weeks. I think twice a week, Friend was supposed to go to the house and feed the snake. The house was really pretty, the snake cage was the centerpiece of the room it was in and there was a whole sort of Asian feel to the room. And off to the side was the mouse farm that served as the snake's menu.

SnakeOwner didn't get a chance to show Friend whole feeding procedure but explained that you had to give the snake a mouse twice a week and here are the things you should check the snake for and left a whole detailed list of "reasons to call the snake vet" and "stuff that will make the house blow up."

First feeding day, Friend goes to the house and immediately realizes that she hadn't thought this through carefully because this job first involves catching a mouse. Mice know when they're about to be fed to a snake and so, when she reached her hand into the mouse farm, CHOMP, she was bit. Scrounges around and finds some gloves next to the mouse farm, along with a little wooden table and a mallet and a Zen sand thingy and bitty rake and other oddments. Huh. On with the gloves, catches a mouse, tosses it into the snake's cage and that part of the process is done. She waters the plants, sorts the mail, and goes back to her life.

Comes back several days later only to find the snake looking a little peaked and a skinny but sassy mouse zooming around in the snake's cage. Huh? Friend isn't reaching in to the snake's cage to take the mouse out so she tosses a little mouse food into the snake cage, repeats the rest of her routine and leaves. Comes back a couple of days later and the mouse is still hale and healthy but the snake is eyeing her in a way that doesn't seem entirely friendly. Now she's worried. She calls the vet, who says that the snake will eat when it's hungry and asks her other questions that are hard to answer about a snake that you barely know. So Friend does the only sensible thing and calls SnakeOwner to explain the situation.

SnakeOwner can't understand why her snake won't eat. You sure you got a new mouse? And it was alive? You didn't hit it too hard?

Wait. What?

Well, it turns out that the snake doesn't eat dead mice. It also won't eat running around mice. So you have to knock the mouse unconcious before it goes into the snake cage. That's what the little wooden table and mallet are for - you get the mouse out of the farm, cup it on the wooden table and smack it with the hammer hard enough to knock it unconcious but not enough to kill it. Turns out that takes a knack - not everyone can stun a mouse.

Friend still can't actually bring herself to reach into the snake's cage to fish for the living mouse in there, so she tosses some more mouse food in and then fishes out another mouse, WHACKS it on its little mousey head and gives it to the snake who apparently doesn't care so much about the distinction between living and dead after a week of no food because it jumps on little Mousey FooFoo like a reptile avenger.

And Friend suddenly understood why it was that SnakeOwner would hum the Bunny FooFoo song when it was feeding time.

I sent the Gentleman Friend this picture with accompanying text: "I want one."

His response: I am amused at the thought of you cackling maniacally whilst feeding what looks to be a venomous snake live mice.

I was at Safeway this weekend, totally exhausted and losing the battle of wits against the debit card reader. I eventually scanned the correct card (for some reason they wouldn't let me pay with my library card) and started hitting buttons on autopilot. The problem is that at my area Safeway stores, the first question on the card reader is if you want to donate to whatever charity they're raising money for. And that's how I ended up muttering, "I don't want to feed hungry children. I just want my cookies." Realizing that it sounded odd, I tried to fix it, explaining to the cashier, "I'm not a monster. I'm just not interested in hungry children...I mean, it was a mistake. If I had read it, I would never have said yes to feeding the kids...I'm just going to stop talking now."

I'm in this store several times per week, and I know most of the evening employees. So I got a bit of good natured ribbing that night, and again today.

Logged

In the United States today, there is a pervasive tendency to treat children as adults, and adults as children. The options of children are thus steadily expanded, while those of adults are progressively constricted. The result is unruly children and childish adults. ~Thomas Szasz

My little dog is a little neurotic. Okay, she's a lot neurotic, but I love her anyway. So, she decided it was time to stop playing lizard in the back yard and came running/bouncing at full speed all the way from the back fence to the patio, under the chair I was sitting in and, without slowing down up the steps to the back door. The problem, of course, is the sliding glass door wasn't open. She hit it hard enough that I'm fairly certain she saw stars. I really shouldn't laugh, but it took me ten minutes to stop giggling.

Logged

Some people lift weights. I lift measures. It's a far more esoteric workout. - (Quoted from a personal friend)

I was at Safeway this weekend, totally exhausted and losing the battle of wits against the debit card reader. I eventually scanned the correct card (for some reason they wouldn't let me pay with my library card) and started hitting buttons on autopilot. The problem is that at my area Safeway stores, the first question on the card reader is if you want to donate to whatever charity they're raising money for. And that's how I ended up muttering, "I don't want to feed hungry children. I just want my cookies." Realizing that it sounded odd, I tried to fix it, explaining to the cashier, "I'm not a monster. I'm just not interested in hungry children...I mean, it was a mistake. If I had read it, I would never have said yes to feeding the kids...I'm just going to stop talking now."

I'm in this store several times per week, and I know most of the evening employees. So I got a bit of good natured ribbing that night, and again today.

I once completely flummoxed someone soliciting charity donations on the street by doing something similar. I was walking home from work, tired after a long day and not at all in the mood to deal with people trying to get me to donate to the cause-of-the-day.* And of course, these folks don't start with "Would to like to donate to X?", first they accost you with a question that any decent person would answer "yes" to, like "Do you want to protect the environment?" or "Do you care about the starving children in Africa?" I don't remember what particular question the guy asked me that day, but I fired back a brisk, relatively cheerful "Not today!" without breaking stride. The poor charity guy was just left standing there repeating "Not...today?" in the most confused and plaintive tone imaginable.

*You know, if they were willing to hand me a flyer so I could research the charity and donate online, I might actually donate, but the ones I run into only seem interested in getting me to sign up for a donation right then and there.

My godmother was a lovely woman, with a reputation for being slightly scatterbrained. She and her grown children were once hosting a friend who'd recently been diagnosed with cancer; apparently the kids knew somehow that this person didn't really want to discuss her illness yet. So they told GM, who was very concerned for Guest and was sure to want very much to discuss her health, that under no circumstances was anyone to mention cancer unless Guest did first. They reminded her repeatedly. The word "cancer" was probably used more times during the lead-up to that visit in their house than it ever had been before.

When the time came to serve dessert, GM (probably thinking "don't say it, don't say it, don't say it") turned to Guest and asked her how many cancers she would like in her coffee.

I was at Safeway this weekend, totally exhausted and losing the battle of wits against the debit card reader. I eventually scanned the correct card (for some reason they wouldn't let me pay with my library card) and started hitting buttons on autopilot. The problem is that at my area Safeway stores, the first question on the card reader is if you want to donate to whatever charity they're raising money for. And that's how I ended up muttering, "I don't want to feed hungry children. I just want my cookies." Realizing that it sounded odd, I tried to fix it, explaining to the cashier, "I'm not a monster. I'm just not interested in hungry children...I mean, it was a mistake. If I had read it, I would never have said yes to feeding the kids...I'm just going to stop talking now."

I'm in this store several times per week, and I know most of the evening employees. So I got a bit of good natured ribbing that night, and again today.

I once completely flummoxed someone soliciting charity donations on the street by doing something similar. I was walking home from work, tired after a long day and not at all in the mood to deal with people trying to get me to donate to the cause-of-the-day.* And of course, these folks don't start with "Would to like to donate to X?", first they accost you with a question that any decent person would answer "yes" to, like "Do you want to protect the environment?" or "Do you care about the starving children in Africa?" I don't remember what particular question the guy asked me that day, but I fired back a brisk, relatively cheerful "Not today!" without breaking stride. The poor charity guy was just left standing there repeating "Not...today?" in the most confused and plaintive tone imaginable.

*You know, if they were willing to hand me a flyer so I could research the charity and donate online, I might actually donate, but the ones I run into only seem interested in getting me to sign up for a donation right then and there.

How I hate these people. I used to live near one of the main business areas in my city and I walked a lot. Every time I left home, I would be accosted by 4 or 5 different young people, very earnestly asking me to help the children, save the dolphins, etc. I hated to do this, but I started to just put on my headphones and ignore them. Otherwise, I would go nuts.

Went out to eat with a group of friends to some restaurant...maybe an Applebees? It's been over 10 years, now. Anyway, we're giving our orders and the guy orders a very rare burger and the waitress naturally is checking to be sure he really wants it rare and just how rare are we talking.

He said to just walk the cow past the fire on their way to the table. The rest of us were laughing quite a bit as this guy was quite a cutup.

Logged

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here. Be cheerful, strive to be happy. -Desiderata